


Dwyllodrus

by blackjack34212



Series: Longer stories [2]
Category: Historical Fiction, Original Work, Welsh Mythology
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackjack34212/pseuds/blackjack34212
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A historical fiction set in 11th Century Wales. It follows from the perspective of a deceptive (Dwyllodrus is Welsh for Deception) young price, and his overbearing father, and their families fall, and ascension to power. However, Aedden (the prince) does not wish for his father to reclaim the throne, but for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dwyllodrus

Anno Domini 1045. My name is Aeddan ap Llywelyn, son of Gruffydd ap Llywelyn rightful King of all Wales. However, that is not the case, an upstart calling himself Gruffydd ap Rhydderch has seized the throne from my father, expelling our family from Deheubarth, our home region. Fortunately my father has a plan, and I would be wise to stick to it. It is mid-winter around December and the cold winds blow in from the north. Our Kingdom is currently at war with the Kingdom of Mercia, and Sussex, however, due to this un-godly bickering and infighting we are weak, although, I have vision of uniting the kingdom, far better than my father is doing. We are currently stationed south of Gwynedd in the valley of Penllyn. There is a town not too far from our camp, the people there are loyal to the Prince of Gwynedd who supports my father’s claim to the throne. As I trudged towards my father’s tent crunching snow under my boots, the wind was piercing my skin blistering my face; I overheard him speaking to the Castellan. “Listen m’lord, I understand that your angry, but we can’t just go around raiding villages within Deheubarth, those towns are still loyal to you, regardless of their new lord.”

“Damn it! I am the rightful king of Wales, I can do whatever I damn well please can’t I?”

“Well, of course your majesty I was simply stating-“

“State whatever you may please, there is no other way to retake the throne other than through direct and overwhelming force, that is the Welsh way!” I took my cue, and entered my father’s tent. He is a large man, towering over the small castellan, his chainmail shrouded in furs of creatures he has hunted down personally. A scar was covering his left eye which was now blind from that same injury, he suffered it during our escape from the castle.

“Sire-“

“Aedden!”

“Father.” I paused for a moment for dramatic flair, I had their attention. “I believe I may have a solution to our problem.”

“Then spit it out before I force it out.” My father was not a loving one.

“Well, as you may be surprised to know Rhydderch-“ my father spit when I said his name, there could be no more hate in such a gesture if he tried. “Is a man of honor.”

“Ha! A MAN OF HONOR? YOU CALL THAT SON OF A WHORE, A MAN OF HONOR? HAVE YOU BEEN SLEEPING WITH THE RATS WIFE?” His temper was more than flared, this is why I would be a far better king than he could ever be, there is no balance in this bear of a man.

“Ahem” I cleared my voice. “Well, despite what he did to us, I have been observing his dealings with the kingdom and he houses knights, of English fashion none the less, and he holds tournaments in his own vain honor, I believe the ticket may be a duel. If you could challenge him to a duel-“ My father slammed his fist on the map covered table knocking over his mug of ale. The sudden shift of the table caused the lantern hanging above the table to shake sending waves of light all over the sides of the tent.

“This is why you’re my son," he was shaking his finger at me and smiling at he same time. "If it wasn’t for your genius my boy- I would assume you were a bastard!” I’ll take that as a compliment. “In a duel..” his voice trailed off and the excitement grew in his eyes. “I WOULD RIP THAT PITIFUL CUMBERGROUND TO SHREDS, WHY, I WOULD TEAR HIS ARMS CLEAN OFF, THAT MAN IS BEARLY ABLE TO STAND IN MY PRESENCE-“

“My lords, if I may.” The castellan was taking a step back in fear of my father’s shouting’s “The dilemma now created is: how do we request a duel?”

“WE BREAK INTO HIS GOD FORSAKEN PALACE AND THROW THE BOOT AT HIM!”

“Father, the expression is ‘Throw down the gauntlet’, not the boot, and regardless, that isn’t the approach I was thinking.”

“Then, please ENLIGHTEN ME.” He was impatient.

“Its simple, on the feast of Powys, we insult him formally, then if he insults us back we demand a duel. The stakes: death.” With Rhydderch it would leave my Father the remaining claimant to the Throne of Deheubarth, thus the King of Wales, since the Lord of Deheubarth was always given the crown.

“M’lord what if Lord Rhydderch doesn’t insult us back?”

“Then, he would have to request a duel, it’s in his honor, if he lets an insult slide his people would lose faith in him.”

“If MY people lose faith in him; couldn’t we just start a revolt?”

“Precisely father, and Rhydderch knows that, so he would be a fool to decline a duel.” Rhydderch was no slouch though, He is an entirely capable warrior. He beat my father before, but mostly due to outthinking him , not in a straight duel.

“Then it seems we have a viable strategy, shall I spread the word to the men m’lords?”

“No”

 “M’lord?”

“Understand that if we tell the men the plan then word would spread, we keep them under the impression that we intend to take the country by force, that way Rhydderch is preparing his armies, not himself.” My father looked pleased, a look I haven’t seen recently. Understandable in light of recent events.

“Good, Then you are both dismissed, and Aedden.”

“Father?”

“Well done.” He sat down in his chair and I couldn’t help but smile, he had no idea what my intentions were of him, he had no clue that I was using him, he had no idea that I fully expect that I am sending him to his death.


End file.
